


The Firewhisky Song

by Kelpie169



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13922667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelpie169/pseuds/Kelpie169
Summary: Hermione sees an ad in the Daily Prophet and responds, even though she's married. What will come of it? Not entirely like it sounds...promise. :)





	The Firewhisky Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexandraO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraO/gifts), [LionLadyBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionLadyBee/gifts).



> Inspired by the Pina Colada Song. This was whipped up in about 45 minutes and is unbeta'd so any mistakes are, unfortunately, mine. And I'm sorry. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize and make no money from anything.

Hermione groaned, her eyes nearly glued shut from the low light and the miniscule print of the book in front of her. 

 

“Hey boss lady.” 

 

A steaming cup of tea appeared before her and she cast a grateful glance up at her assistant. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be here, Megan? After all it’s-” A quick wave of her wand brought forth another groan. “-nine thirty. Nevermind.”

 

“Everything alright, Hermione? Were you here all night?” Megan quickly set down the Daily Prophet on her boss’s desk and straightened up, waiting her any instructions. 

 

“I’m fine. Just a bit-” Hermione paused, her hand drifting up to cover the massive yawn escaping her mouth. “-tired, is all. Nothing a little pepper up can’t fix, eh? Why don’t you run down to Percy’s office and see if he’s got those reports I asked for last week? Thank you, Megan!”

 

When the charming young girl was out of her office, Hermione slumped in her chair once more, her back muscles screaming at her in protest. She couldn’t believe she’d stayed all night. It was one stupid argument. Surely they could work it out…

 

She picked up the Prophet and leaned forward to sip her tea as she read, lazily sipping the steaming beverage as she flipped through the newsprint.

 

Her chocolate eyes widened as she came across a rather peculiar column about three pages in however and she sputtered the English breakfast tea all down the front of her day old blouse. 

 

_ If you like firewhisky after work and getting caught in the snow _

_ If you’re not into Quidditch and you don’t like to row _

_ If you like making love at midnight in the hills of the ‘shire _

_ Then I’m the love you’ve looked for, write to me and escape _

 

“Well, that does sound like an enticing sort of fellow, now doesn’t it?” She cast a glance at the band on the third finger of her left hand and gave an offhanded shrug. 

 

She pulled a spare piece of parchment toward her and dipped a quill into some ink as her hand began to flow across the page.

 

x . x . x . x . x

 

_ Yes, I like firewhisky after work and getting caught in the snow _

_ I’m not much into health food, I am into elf wine _

_ I’ve got to meet you by tomorrow and cut through all this red tape _

_ At a bar called the Hog’s Head where we’ll plan our escape _

x . x . x . x . x

 

She waited nervously in the Hog’s Head, watching Aberforth scrub a dirty pint glass with an even dirtier towel. 

 

“Why do you bother, Abe?”

 

“Why do you bother coming, lass?”

 

“Touché.” 

 

A warm touch on her shoulder startled her and she froze, her muscle seizing up as her eyes widened in fright. Aberforth chuckled and ambled away grumbling under his breath, something about obnoxious lovebirds.

 

“I honestly didn’t think you’d come.”

 

She slowly turned, her chocolate eyes meeting his molten grays, something tight in her stomach loosening as he say the small grin on his face.

 

“I wrote back, didn’t I?”

 

His expression turned to one of complete anguish as he pulled her off the barstool and into his arms, his face buried into her hair and his arms tight around her much smaller body. “You didn’t come home, Mia! I thought...I thought you-”

 

“You thought I decided not to come home ever. Oh, Draco…” She gently stroked a hand through the soft blond windswept hair resting against her cheek as he inhaled deeply, trying to regain control of himself.

 

“I’m glad you told me about that song. I wasn’t sure how to break the ice after our fight.” Hermione heard the slight self loathing in his voice, the hesitance to speak such a weakness out loud and hated herself a bit for making him feel that way.

 

“I’m sorry, Draco. I’m sorry for staying at work all night, which I didn’t even mean to by the way, and I’m sorry for the fight in the first place. I mean, I don’t even remember what the stupid argument was about, can you?” She pulled a face and chuckled slightly as they settled themselves on the barstools side by side, bodies still mostly overlapping.

 

“It was because you refused to-” He caught her glare out of the corner of his eye as well as Aberforth’s wildly waving arm across his neck. “-ah, nope, Can’t remember. Not a clue.”

 

Hermione giggled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “What do you say we get out of Aberforth’s ridiculously filthy establishment and go home? Then tomorrow we can head to the vacation house in Greece. I already cleared a week off with Kingsley.”

 

Draco’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You did?! But-you said...but-you said you couldn’t take any time off right now! That the department would be lost without you! That-”

 

Hermione pursed her lips and clamped a hand over her husband’s mouth as he continued to try to talk. “Considering my letter to did say that we’d plan our escape, you should have seen this coming. Plus...I may have been a little...okay I was being too controlling. You were right.”

 

A beat of silence passed where Draco actually looked like he very well might faint. Then he snapped his fingers at Aberforth and gestured frantically. “You! Pen, quill, charcoal! Anything! I need to document this momentous day! She said I was right! Oh! I need to save this memory in a pensieve! I need to BUY a pensieve!”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh for Merlin’s sake! This isn’t the first time I’ve ever said that!”

 

“Oh really?!” Draco challenged, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Name one other time then. Go on! Just one other.”

 

Hermione grinned and opened her mouth. “.....” Her brow furrowed for a moment before her mouth snapped shut and her hands went to her hips. “Well, there has to be…” Her toe began tapping and her nose wrinkled as Draco’s smile grew wider and wider. 

 

A few more minutes of silence flew by as Aberforth watched the couple, each growing more frustrated and amused in equal measure before Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation.

 

“I know there was another time, Draco Malfoy! I just can’t remember it at the moment. And if you don’t get your ridiculously secy arse home right this insant, you can forget any sexy times while we are in Greece! Do you understand me?!” 

 

She was gone a split second later with a particularly angry sounding pop. 

 

Draco saluted toward Aberforth. “You heard the lady!”


End file.
